William Douglas Rodenberg

Rookie (8/12/94 / Washington DC)

The Rising Sun - Poem by William Douglas Rodenberg

When people speak of me, I want it to be as though I am an apparition
When they think of me I want their imagination to be virgin and wild
When they encounter me I want it to be as though they saw a rare bird
which flew away unrevealing of its aspects

I wish to be a looming specter,
An unrecognizable and magnificent specimen
I want to be a quandary and an enigma to be studied and picked apart

I want to be trusted above all else
To be understood only in my purity and to represent the infallible truth which will burn those unconceding to it
What this means is that I no longer want to be human but a symbol and an entity of light

I want to lead my men to battle and scorch the plains with white fire
I want to be saddled upon my steed and crush the demons with its hooves and trample the stained spirits and turn them to dust as I pass

Any of the uncompromising will be tossed aside like spoiled fruit
With my scuthe of justive the harvest will bend to the winds of my revolutions
With fury and an unwavering heat those that stand against the truth will wilt like sunflowers in the time of their end

The devils will seek shelter in the cracks and unsealed splits of this earth buth they will burnt all the same
No one will be saved from this glory and all that try will be ash against the wind a moment later

And when all this has ended law will be laid upon the people
The untaught will be educated and reformed in all ways
Like a melder such precious medals will be formed with strength and an unbreakable resilience

A uniform force will rise out of the ashen soil and fertilize seeds of their own
By this era the harvest will be pure and without infection
The locust will have left and all the weeds ripped from their entanglements

A new era will dawn and I will be its rising sun

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Poem Edited: Thursday, November 25, 2010


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